I would write to you if only I could.

But I can't distract myself from my own head; it just hasn't been quiet around here since my mind first started humming with the idea of loving you.

Knowing your soul like my own would blossom within me like a sprawling forest.

But while you're still unsure, I'm just wandering through the leaves.

And while I'm gone, I'll bet the trees pray to be dead just so they don't have to listen to me talk about you again.

But I ache with sorrow for their misunderstanding,

Because you are a song I will sing until it hurts anywhere above a whisper.

there is comfort
in living in black
the devoid of color
makes life seem more meaningful
as if pain has got it's bludgening purpose

but then you came along
sprouted from the ground
petals in pastels and colors all around
and my god

i'll keep my eyes open forever
if it means the black has gone to color
and you promise me that you'll never find
any other

Why do I have to squeeze my eyes,
to bring my soul out through my throat,
Somehow one blink of my blurry eyes,
Rendered me in the depth while the world's afloat.

The fists tight around my neck,
are far too coward to show their face,
Or maybe they're too many ghouls,
Crowded together into my personal space.

I'm fearing words, I'm fearing sounds,
I'm wrapping the ringing in my ears
around my dejected shoulders
In case the burst of reality makes my being cease.

Am I scared for you, or scared of you?
Scared of what the world has made you see,
Or scared of turning into you,
Cause the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.

I squeeze and squeeze as if my eyeballs are two stress *****,
Till they have absorbed all the noise
that my overflowing head is spilling,
I don't have the courage to let it spill through my voice.

I don't have the courage to say anything that matters,
Cause my excuses are here soothing me,
While your reasons are there killing you,
So I end up being the nobody that I am eventually.